Giving Up The Gun
by EllesBeth MidnightSparrow
Summary: As the saying goes, love is indeed brightest when all other lights are put out.  So what could be exptected when darkness closes around the girl who seems to carry a light of her own?  Rated M to keep it safe.
1. Chapter 1:Bad Medicine

((I do not own anything, all credit goes to the creators of this marvelous manga/anime))

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Hoarse breathing echoed off the cavernous halls, the cold stone cobbled the paths. All was still in the castle, until one lone scream pierced that dead calm. In the uppermost sanctum of the dark place, a figure bolted about in a frenzy of panic. The figure was a woman, her skin a fine porcelain to contrast easily to the sleek ebony of her hair. She wore a thin cotton nightgown to fight back the dank cold the castle seemed to emanate. It seemed to do little help, considering the numb and pallid fingers and incessant shivering gave that away.

The woman stifled another whimper, continuing down another staircase. Quickly forgetting her place in the monstrous dwelling. A cold sweat shined her brow, and the ground seemed to riser up to meet her, while her feet fumbled. Her body thudded to the ground, the precious oxygen forced out of her gullet, leaving her rasping on the ground like a choked animal. A strange glow replaced the sepia-toned light of the lamps. Red light washed over the poor girl, and she seemed to hardly take notice. Focusing on the torn flesh of her palms from the fall.

Blood slicked the skin down to her wrists, and the searing pain gathered into tears that brimmed up over her eyes. The foreboding light grew darker with every passing second she sat on the floor. From a steel coat of armor standing solemn against the wall the woman pulled a worn broadsword. With wide eyes she marveled at the jewel-encrusted hilt and suede handle. The luxury of the item took the majority of her attention, as the atmosphere grew dangerous.

"I was not down playing with you, _mon cherie," _a voice commanded from the darkest corner of the room.

The female screamed, running for the nearest door, and exit, clasping the handle like a loved friend. She was sadly no going to find freedom, for by some strange magic, the metal burned with a white-hot intensity of coals in a fireplace. She managed to stumble backwards with the stench of burning skin in the air. The sword clanged at her feet, useless to her now. Hands as white as those of a corpse reached from the darkness, securing her hands to the floor, lying on her back. Another set of hands came, as pallid as the first, down onto the quivering flesh of the woman.

"Please. . .stop," the girl murmured as the pair of hands reached into the folds of her dress, groping each thigh roughly.

A body was finally discernable against the backdrop of black.

He was a tall, very handsome European man. Dark, coarse hair was swept back, and left to pool onto his shoulders, like strands of ink. The high set of his cheekbones allowed for shadows to cover the obvious crimson tint to his iris. He wore a simple white blouse, cover by a charcoal tweed vest. A rather large bow hung around his neck, the cloth stained crimson.

"You could stand to mind your manners," the deep baritone said, bending low over her, "Toys to tend to get broken much more quickly."

The first pair of arms retracted from her hands, disappearing into the abdomen of this evil man. The woman whimpered and moaned in agony through her veil of tears. Her heart throbbed as the man's hands traveled up her spread legs, bringing the fabric up along with them.

New tears stung once the man pressed his groin into her waist, and she immediately felt his arousal. Her thoughts were a flurry of decisions and hatred, groping out until feeling cool steel at her fingertips. The man smiled coyly, putting two fingers near her entrance.

In one flick of her elbows, the blade was now buried up to the hilt in the man's back, exiting through his chest. The blow left the final five inches to the tip of the ancient blade embedded in the woman's heart.

Blood pooled around the woman, coughing and spluttering as her last moments ticked by in silence.

"Die. . .you filthy demon!" she whispered once her eyes fluttered shut, never to open again.

The dark-haired man said nothing, all intensity and urgency to the moment gone in a flash. With a low chuckle, he stood.

_K-thunk_!-and the sword was now plunged deeply into the stone floor, clean of any blood.

"Another suit, another perfect night. . .gone to waste," he said, giving the lifeless body a solid kick.

"Whores, all of them. Why I even bother with these inbred, boring, useless pieces of meat is beyond me."

One last disgusted grimace, and shadows collided into the corpse. One could only imagine the images linked to the crunching and grinding of a hundred mouths of his hellhounds.

_Day 01~_

_Dearest Diary, _

_I fear the worst is at the beginning of my start to this journal. I've just been fired from my job, housekeeping for the kind family of Brandyworths. I daresay I was doing a splendid job, in my beautiful, starched uniform with the pressed apron. I was most surprised when I was called to Sir Brandyworths office. To find the typically placid man raging like a hornet's nest in a tempest, was a sight to behold. The god Missus was there too, her eyes dabbed into a 'kercheif._

_They both looked at me like I was a rat spreading the Plague._

"_Seras," the portly sir began, "Yourself and I both know we've treated our maids and workers with the best care possible. However, we're both quite upset that one that we'd considered our family would steal from us, it's truly a disgrace on our part."_

"_Begging your pardon, sir," I stammered, keeping my chin high enough to look into the man's eyes, "But I haven't stolen a thing, you know me. I wouldn't do something as vile and loathsome as to take your own property."_

_This seemed to not sit well with the Mister, for he got real purple in the face, and yelled, saying him and the police had searched though my private quarters, and found some of the Miss's old jewelry under the pantyhose and letters to my family in America. It probably didn't help, but I flat-out denied it, swearing on the Queen, I says that I would rather quit than be a thief. And so, they obliged, agreeing not to send me to prison, if I were to never set a toe within their household again._

_Diary, these are hard times, and my savings are getting dry. One can only pray somebody would need a humble housekeep like myself._

_Until we next meet,_

_**Victoria Seras**_

_**Fin**_

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Author: Well. . . that's it, the beginning is through, now to just finish the rest *puts on thinking cap*

Seras: WHAT was THAT?

Author: W-Well, I thought it was a nice thing, to open up the characters more.

Alucard: I think EllesBeth is right, it could prove to have more interesting events to come. *Evil smile*

Author: Yeah. . . sure. *shivers*

Thanks you guys! Reviews are welcome and appreciated! Expect a new chapter within the end of the month.


	2. Chapter 2:Poor Thing

_A/N: I own nothing concerning Hellsing, all credit to the writer._

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The man known as Alucard lay in the stifled quiet of his domicile, the soft velvet more comforting than any bedding or security lights. All he needed was this wooden box, and he would enjoy an eternity in it, if only he could. Alas, the one pivotal factor that tore the two apart every setting of the sun, was the ravenous, increasingly urgent hunger, twisting his insides like old rope.

'_If only I was rid of this,' _he thought, stroking the plush fabric fondly, _'That is my only human weakness, the only thing that ties me to __**them**__.'_

This thought soured his conscience, making the Prince of Darkness restless. He clothed himself using the hordes of his shadows, and swung the lid open into the darkness he loved so dearly. His personal chambers lay out in the uppermost spire, rows of windows allowing for a marvelous view of the valley the castle was built in. With the event of the previous night far away from his thoughts, the old vampire reminisced to when all the trees were just brush and saplings. He'd lain waste to the pitiful village of farmers and women and children on many a glorious night. He could hear the bawling of the children, the low cursing of the men, as if it were yesterday. But, times had changed, it wasn't so simple anymore. If you would kill a few hundred people in these times, Scotland Yard would be on his tail faster than he would be able to burn, or devour bodies.

He needed to stop thinking about all the fun times. All he required was his next meal, and he would feel right as rain. The man walked quite gracefully over the only piece of furniture in the room, a heavy cherry desk. Stacked in a large pile were English newspapers, the ones at the bottom beginning to yellow from age. On the other side was a bottle of wine, Alucard immediately tensed, gathering his shadows out of reflex.

"Come, come now, Alucard," a crisp voice carried from his coffin, "You won't even put up some defense for an old friend? Even after I brought you some wine."

The vampire seemed to relax at the voice, swiveling to see the creature.

If there was an exact opposite to Alucard in looks, this was the woman, standing next to his bed. Dressed in a man's worksuit, platinum hair wove it's way to her shoulders. The skin visible on her face glowed a light brown to contrast the deep unsurpassable amount of blue in her eyes. Though her clothes were meant for a man, everything seemed to fall perfectly on her waist, not a stitch out of place.

The European man gave a smirk, turning back to open the bottle, pouring himself a glass.

"What are you wearing? I was certain you weren't a man," the No Life King stifled a cackle with the back of his hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the woman was, in a flash, tugging on the collar to his shirt.

"Well, I guess it can't be helped," and the vampiric nature got the better of him. With one movement, he was pressing her body on top of the desk. His hands worked with the skill and precision of a surgeon, securing her hands in his strong grip. Around the sweet flesh about her collarbone, his lips worked to the pulse, dragging long breaths onto her neck. The woman didn't waver, almost seeming to revel in the man's one weakness.

"Why did you come here?" Alucard breathed into her ear.

". . . To see if you were still alive, after these long two hundred years, No Life King," the woman said.

Smiling into her neck, the man nipped at her pulse, each throb sending the slightly serrated canines further into her flesh.

"Integral," he whispered.

The familiar tang of blood coated his mouth, hungrily devouring the pulse. A few moment went by, synchronizing to each other in perfect unity. But after those minutes, the woman appeared bored, and pried the still bloodlusting man off of her with almost inhuman strength from the thin appearance of her arms.

Alucard saw that he was done, and after lapping the wound clean, collapsed into her lap, his head resting on her thigh.

"That's Miss Hellsing to you, mutt," the woman known as Integral laughed, slowly petting the dark locks absentmindedly.

"How is eternity treating you, Hellsing?"

"Apparently I fared much better than you."

"I'm surviving. . .I have no need for mortal pleasantries as money, or business."

"And with that solitude, comes your downfall," Integral murmured.

"I fail to see my demise."

"I'm done being your Master, Alucard, I can't tell you what to do," the woman touched the fading scar on her neck, "But, you need something more than the coffin and this castle. Be a monster, play some games. The human world is a lot more vast than it was one hundred years ago, and sooner or later, they will forget about you."

"This hardly sounds like the morally upright, extremely opinionated woman I saw last time she was human," Alucard chortled, sending vibrations into Integral's legs.

"All this coddling, you're more like a frightened puppy than a great and mighty leader, spelling his name out in blood across continents. This is pitiable."

"If you are so opposed to my ways, stay here, be my Queen of the Night," Alucard said, sitting up and downing the glass of wine. The dark woman seemed to debate this, pacing the floor with her index finger tapping her chin methodically. A cigar was lit, as the two looked at each other in silence, sizing the other up like lions in cages.

"Sorry, I'm not ready to be caught by the likes of you. Goodnight, No Life King," and with that the woman's body slowly began to dissolve into nothing but air. In a matter of moments, nothing was left but a cloud of cigar smoke to waft like a ghost, bearing nothing but bad memories.

A small frown crept onto the vampire's face, pouring more wine he stared out the windows into the waning moon amid the sleek clouds that encased the late night sky.

'_Perhaps it is time I dial up some old business,' _he thought, turning to his desk. It still lay neat and orderly, not a drop of blood or wine on the smooth cherry surface. He seated himself into the plush leather, settling into a rhythm of paperwork, thoughts of games dancing in his head. Different instances wove pictures into his subconscious, he had to contain himself from chuckling out loud.

"Hm. . .how about some cleaning personnel? Maids? Cooks? Perhaps a butler or two, sounds like fun."

**-{One Month Later}-**

_Dearest Diary,_

_There is hope for me yet! Surely God has favored me, and I'm elated to find that a few of us from the great town of London have been accepted to a job. I've already sent word to Aunt and dear Cousin Amelia out in New York that I'll be moving, and gave them my new mailing address. _

_Though I haven't the foggiest who our new benefactor will be, I only know we're now on a train headed into the brave unknown of Romania. The sights here are spectacular, as well as the people, who are sturdy and as friendly as a shady oak. I shan't make this a long entry, for fear of waking one of the other passengers, though there may not be many. _

_Until next we meet,_

_Victoria Seras_

Seras slowly put out the lamp sitting on the ledge to her window. In a huff darkness slowly slipped over the girl, a blanket lay over her figure. The slim contours of her body stretched out onto the bench. Though it was late, only around ten people still remained on the train, even the stewards had retreated to the front of the train for the night. Outside the now frosted panes of glass, the slowly rolling hills of the Romanian countryside passed for hours, civilization appearing further and further away.

The girl known as Seras resisted the urge to curl into a ball. Something about the eerie quiet of the night gave her chills up her arms. Out in the dark, anything could hide, waiting for those that could easily be taken in by the stronger and more foreboding shadows. In the dark, anything could happen, and out in the dark, people could lose themselves. For many years, she had been terrified of this ever-present monster that'd taken up many sleepless nights. Seras was far from a coward, but every man, or woman, had their weakness, whether great or small.

The only instance when she'd truly been afraid in the daytime, was a melancholic day in the quaint seaside of England. Seras was a spry age of eight, the memory was crisp and clear as glass. Her hair was going past her waist, and tied into braids that shimmered a strawberry blonde in the noonday sun. Her birthday had been two weeks before, and she stayed with her grandparents for the rest of the month while her parents were gone to a trip to Scotland to get the remainder of their things. Both Seras's parents, and her grandparents had agreed that moving down to live with the grandparents would be a wise thing.

The whole day was spent flitting about the fields down by the beach, wildflowers cascading over onto the satin sands like gems. Those moments could've lasted for an eternity, and Seras would've been more than happy to life it over and over. Unfortunately, her parents never returned at the end of the week. Her parents had been found at the bottom of a ravine, rocks piled atop their bodies, and their car a burned wreckage a mile up the cliff.

That night they'd finally found out about their whereabouts, the carefully trimmed locks were shorn, replaced with a spiky bob. Always slightly uneven and that is how they remained, as a painful reminder of those times when she'd truly been alone in the dark. Days of mourning whirled into months of mourning, a weight on her chest constricting every hope of herself being happy again. Her grandparents were long gone, and the only family she now knew were distant cousins living worlds away from where she was now. To say they were family would be an overstatement.

'_No, I mustn't think of such things,' _she thought, _'I'm safe here, day will come in due time.'_

These thoughts pushed her further into the world of sleep, and the secure haze carried her to a dreamless slumber.

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Alucard sorted through the rather large and increasingly obvious stack of paperwork from various shipping companies and manufacturers. An amount of work this size would take at least five hours more, and those were hours he couldn't afford. One of his many plans would commence in around three of those hours. The sun would be rising, and his coffin began to beckon from the opposite side of the room. All the preparations were complete, furnishings set out luxurious enough for a king, food prepared, and every inch swept clean. The only thing he needed to do, was stay awake. Sure, on occasion, he'd stayed up through whole days, but that was when he was much younger, and humans were still frightened to walk outside of their homes after six o'clock.

'_Enough of this, I should be focusing on the game, it's so close I can feel it,' _he thought, slouching in his office chair. He ran a hand through his now choppy hair. He missed his long, black hair. It'd been a symbol of his power, and how much was under his control. But, to appear with the times, he'd had to cut them, and they now hung over his eyes haphazardly. In the blink of an eye, it could grow back. But it was all about the image until one of these contestants was a winner. He could hear the train pulling into the station in the town, and he summoned clouds to cover the once bright and cheery sun. The blasted ball of flame made his eyes itch, and his skin crawl with pinpricks. With everything in it's place, he needed to prepare to greet his guests. Oh, he was so very close, it was only a matter of time.

"Walter!" Alucard called from his room. Hurried steps followed, and a prim and proper Englishman with a monocle entered through the heavy oak door.

"Yes, Mister Alucard?" Walter said, a slightly irked expression on his face.

"What were you doing?" Alucard asked absentmindedly while reading a particularly lengthy letter on his pile.

"Well, Sir, I had been sorting all the china, then I was planning on shining the coats of armor after this. I was almost done."

"Forget that, Walter. . .do it later. I need you to go and acquire our new contestants from the station down in town. Hurry now and you won't be too late," the vampire waved him off like a hound.

"Excuse me, Alucard, but even though Master Integral Hellsing sent me to assist you until your business is complete, I still haven't forgiven you for the incident fifty years ago," Walter said with a huff.

"Just be grateful I didn't bite off an arm or a leg, or more. You are certainly lucky to have found that way to immortality without becoming a monster like us. Anyway, I don't care about matters in the past, you are here to fulfill your orders, and you might as well get the most out of them. I may be able to show a few pointers on how to stay alive."

"Oh. . .I wouldn't worry about that," he said, waving his hands, and in a slicing motion, shredding Alucard's letter in two, "I have survived this long without your help, I'll be able to keep out of harm's way."

Walter left, and a few minutes later, a large horse-drawn carriage pulled swiftly out of the premises, leaving Alucard alone with the pieces of paper laying limply in his hands. Normally, this would've sparked a flare of anger, and he would've killed the man in a flash, immortal or not. However, Integral favored him for his loyalty and combat prowess. So he had to let this slide. Besides, there was no way any sort of sour notes could ruin this day, or even these weeks.

Opening a small drawer in the desk, he pulled out several manila envelopes. A slight smirk danced on the corners of his lips, looking at the black-and-white photos. One was a withering man with half-moon spectacles, a young dark-haired girl in her teens, a middle-aged woman with wrinkles assaulting her forehead and others still remained under the pile. They all looked the same, no matter what the age or ethnicity, they all seemed to gaze with a hollow, hopeless stare. But, surely it was not his plan to bring forth the most unhappy humans in the world, but to give them more grief and heartache.

Seras stood huddled in the mass of people that'd gotten off the train, her coat shielding most of the winds and cold. The sun was nothing but a glimmer in betwixt the clouds that'd overtaken the sky. It was late morning, and their stomachs were full with the bounty of food served on the train. But everyone's jolly mood was beginning to wear off, waiting for their coach to pick them up. None of the houses here looked grand enough to need maids or handymen, except perhaps the chapel, but the way the priest glared out from behind the stained glass windows at them from across the town-square, anyone would've chosen walking through the bitter winds than going into the hollow church.

The whole square was cobbled with stones, some cracking and some missing. There were no venders out to sell their wares, and even the occasional pedestrian seemed happy to meet you, but the urgency to get back to their house seemed to be far more important. To say it was bustling, it was anything but.

The lot of them stood, their belongings in hatboxes or small trunks, nothing more than two things to carry, and only had small satchels. Most of the people Seras stood next to stared into space, idling their brains and didn't speak to one another. Transitioning from the bustling London streets to these desolate, dead walkways made Seras feel like the worst form of outsider. A sigh of relief blossomed from the bottom of her chest as a friendly face sat atop a dark carriage that'd pulled up to their hodgepodge group of people. He seemed very sleek and upright as he greeted them all as they in turn filed into the spacious coach. He seemed to shoot glances to each of them, his mouth frowning ever-so-slightly. Seras didn't bother on the subject much longer, she would now have a home, and a job that earned her enough to live on for a long while. From what the description in the ads had said, it was everything it had promised to be.

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Author: Sorry to everyone, I was off by a few days! I've been dealing with the past two weeks of exams, I'm hoping to get a new chapter out within the month! Thank you to everyone who favorites or reviews this, anything helps.

Seras: Next time, you should actually follow through with your promises!

Alucard: Oh, hush! She's just trying to have a bit of fun. *Evil grin*

Author: Please STOP! Your face WILL freeze if you keep doing that!


	3. Chapter 3:Sweet Serendipity

_**A/N: I own no part of this manga/anime, all credit to those due it.**_

_**A/N: I mean for the setting to be in the 19th**__** Century (aka: Victorian era) just to clear up any confusion.**_

_**Contains: Slight AlucardXWalter…hints of SerasXAnderson**_

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The slow setting of the sun allowed for the night to advance further into the expanse of valley. Seras couldn't discern the sun anymore behind the trees, or through the grey clouds, their bellies appeared dark and full of rain. She had the luck of getting a window seat on the large bench in the coach. The elderly man next to her was snoring gently, and the others on board were occupying themselves nicely.

The driver of the coach wore a long, black cloak, his hair swept back in a ponytail down to his back. Seras could see the bobbing of his head through the slat of glass separating the driver and the passengers. The horses appeared to need little directing, and their dark bodies seemed at the pique of physical strength. Their feet pounded without end on the harsh dirt road. They had already been traveling in the coach for a long while, and their surroundings showed little chance of stopping before nightfall.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, Seras took out her journal from under the folds of her coat.

_Dearest Diary,_

_I'm exhausted, to be quite frank, of this bothersome travel. It's becoming a long while of sitting, then standing, then sitting again, and I fear we will never be able to arrive at our destination. The countryside of Romania is both wonderful and something to be feared at the same._

_No one speaks to me, and just as I was getting off the train, I was given a letter from my dear aunt and cousins in America. The news had unnerved me to no end. They seemed to not be finding good luck any where, after moving to America a few years ago. They had sent the proceeding:_

_"My dear Seras, This must be said before you are to move, and we won't be hearing from you after you are working hard far east. Your grandparents had told us to tell you if they were to die. And, after the both of them died inside of a month, I must carry the burden to tell you. Your late parents had been killed, or murdered, not just by happenstance, or even a automobile accident. Perhaps you'd heard of them under the pile of rocks, and it makes my hand shake so, just writing about it and thinking the dreadful thought. But, they had been carved upon, with such blasphemous names, and strange markings. The detectives and investigators said they had been taken hostage in the cliffs near your hometown, and had been some sort of wicked ritual. All about the area around your parents' resting place, various living creatures, from small mice to a wandering cow had been slain as gruesomely as your poor, poor parents. I feel you need to know this, and I ask for you to take this and be at rest. Please send us word, and tell us how your work is going for you. We await earnestly for when we can meet."_

_This news could make me near ready to retch. But, I needed to make myself right, and instead took that anger and hate, and must direct the energy into my work. This is such grievous news, and I hope our benefactor can at least give us the night, so I might be able to mourn for the night. In the morning, I can be right, and work so steadfastly, that my boss must give me a raise. That's how awfully I want to be rid of my past. _

_Until next we meet,_

_Victoria Seras_

Before she'd noticed her pen moving on the paper, her entry was done, and her pen dripped ink, smearing in a dark smudge under her thumb. Her mind was worn, and her body was aching for rest, both of the physical kind and of the mental. She felt unsteady and unsure about herself, and suddenly wanted to be alone in her bed in London.

She raised her eyes wearily to assess the souls in front of her. Down the row she looked across the opposite bench; a young, black-haired man with full-moon spectacles and shoes that shined like they were made of oil, an elderly woman with wrinkles and her hair swept up in a tidy bun, a middle-aged woman with high cheekbones and a busty chest hidden beneath a slightly revealing blouse. Of the five people on the opposite bench, only one dared look her in the eyes, and their own eyes seemed to flint from behind their lashes.

Looking closer, he was a dark-skinned man, with a stature of around six feet and ten inches. His legs took up most of the space in front of him, and he wore a long trench coat that concealed most of his body and face. His hair was a short, croppy cut that was almost white, and stuck up all about his head.

His shifty gaze looked like an animal about to be set free, and use your bones as toothpicks. He was a terrifying individual, and he quickly locked gazes with the girl. Seras looked away as she could feel a blush invading her cheeks. A small chuckle came from the man's direction. She still evaded his looks, and instead looked out the window. The road, though it appeared to not get any worse, suddenly did, and those that were sleeping weren't anymore. The ruts and divots in the trail sent belongings flying, along with a select few that were light enough.

Seras felt herself rise from her seat and her head grazed the velvet top of the coach. What was the meaning of this? The driver seemed to not care about the matter, taking all of the blows and jumps in stride. Seras could feel that they had to be close. The worst of it came first before a break in the clouds, so to speak. Her prediction seemed right, and the lot of them crowded to the windows, and looked out past the driver to see the grandeur of the place.

It seemed like something out of an old story of castles and mighty kings that ruled them. Seras felt like a stray being allowed into the inner sanctum of the pedigrees. If the people in the coach had looked beaten-down before, surely their esteem fell a few degrees to find the daunting aura of the castle bearing down on them.

The carriage stopped in front of the massive wooden doors, and the driver promptly escorted them all out into the darkening sunset. He said nothing, but stared at them all with a slightly callous look as he opening the doors with a resounding thud. Once again they said nothing, but went into the dwelling like sheep following their shepherd.

Inside there was not a single source of light, but for elaborate candelabras that stood in corners to give off warm light on the stone floors. The light gave little away, but one could make out the grand staircase that joined the second level with the first. Large banisters guarded the stairs and more candles were placed there as well. All along the marble walls there hung glittering tapestries and paintings that seemed to carry a small piece of the past with them, depicting epic scenes or portraits of weathered men and women. Seras remained huddled near the center of their ring of safety, and it appears she wasn't the only one scared of things in the dark. All of them, even the men, seemed to shirk away from the dank corners and remained near the pleasant glow of the lights.

"Welcome, my seasoned travelers," a lilting voice said, an obvious accent laced through the words. Many of them swiveled their heads to face in the direction of the stairs. An outline of a man was visible, blocking out one of the stands filled with candles. He was a tall man, and Seras made note that the man used every inch to his advantage.

He seemed to overwhelm them with his presence, and they said nothing. Not even bothered by this, he carried on.

"Please form a line, so that I may greet you, my friends, for you have journeyed many long and weary miles to come because of my request," the man said in earnest, giving the closest thing to a smile Seras had seen since she'd been here.

They all lined up, and Seras ended up last in the row. She watched as the men were given a firm handshake, and the women were given a handshake and a light kiss on the cheek. Many of the women blushed, and the blonde woman even sighed a light, airy bit when she'd been greeted. Seras was feeling more and more uncomfortable, and desired to be home in London even more. Finally, her turn was up, and the warmth of Seras' hand was doused in an almost icy bite of cold to the handshake. She had to contain herself from instinctively shivering. A light peck followed, with a trail of breath trailed by as the man introduced himself.

"I am Sir Alucard, and your name, Miss?"

"S-Seras Victoria. . .My Lord," she mumbled, staring at her shoes, wringing knots in her hands.

"The pleasure is mine, Seras, and I'm sure you'll do fine here."

"Thank you, Sir."

With one quick grin he walked off toward the staircase, and stopped, turning around with a knowing look to his dark eyes.

"As you've heard how the saying goes 'many hands make light work,' I myself am a firm believer in that philosophy. I also think that rest will be something important to be had when one has been working hard. Tonight, please rest, so that when dawn breaks we will be able to cooperate like a machine. So," the Sir said, looking at a pocket watch, "As the nights grows older, so will we all if we stand about. Assignments will be handed out to each individual based upon their previous history. Good night, all."

With that, he led them each up to a room more than fit for a king, and Seras nearly lost her breath from the sheer size of her own room. She shut the door, as to hide her growing smile. A four-poster bed was concealed by a gauzy white veil around it, a vanity and her own bathtub were hidden by a curtain in the corner of the room. The white of the porcelain gleamed as her window revealed the mountains rolling in amongst the fog in the night. Though the weather was cold, Seras felt the warmth of the hot water of the washtub, and the familiarity of being clean.

Both tears of joy and those of pain swelled from her eyes, coursing down her face. She could mourn, and be thankful that she appeared to finally be in a place that would make her fell as if she had a purpose to fulfill.

* * *

Alucard was wide awake, in the massive library on the third floor, and the effects of not sleeping for days hardly crossed his mind. He was able to hear them, all of them, sleeping or content in their rooms with little to worry about. He was overjoyed that everything had gone smoothly, and they were all none the wiser. Why would anyone suspect anything in the first place?

"Do you really intend on starting so soon?" Walter said from a particularly large bookcase.

"Yes, I have to, or else some might go snooping about, and I want to put them on-edge a little. Give them something to fantasize about while they go about, like good little mortal humans," Alucard explained while at his desk, all his work done for the week.

"I still think you have too many," Walter exasperated, "One could slip away, and you'd have townspeople and the law breathing down your neck, which is admittedly visible now."

Alucard didn't respond to this, too excited and too far into the game to let Walter get his jabs at him.

"Walter. . .your neck seems well-exposed as well, and I'm overdue for a meal."

The Englishman froze for a moment, a jolt of fear overtook his body as he stopped sorting the books from the shelf.

"That is not in my job description, Alucard," he said slowly, continuing to sort.

"Oh, come now," the vampire said, phasing next to Walter from his desk, "You were sent to me to fulfill my orders until Integral sends word for you. You're immortal. . .I can do nothing to harm the chance that you'll keep living forever."

"But you still forget that you have all the willing volunteers down the hall," Walter spluttered.

"I think people would get suspicious enough if some soul would die the first night, right?" Alucard inched forward, bearing down on the other man.

"What if I turn into a vampire-"

"Then we'll have to find out, Walter."

Alucard breathed down the other man's neck, disappointed that the man was trying to keep his composure.

"I will do as you ask, but nothing more involving. . .this, you have your nest of birds to take from. I'd rather not have myself be a regular one," Walter said, touching his neck gingerly.

"I swear, Walter," Alucard grinned.

In one move, Alucard was holding him in an embrace. The two forms fit together perfectly.

"What do you say, you monster," Walter chuckled, feeling the canine's pierce his slightly withered flesh as it grew taunt.

"Thank you, my servant," Alucard said, giving a toothy grin amid gulps.

* * *

Seras fell asleep in a silken gown she'd found amongst the uniforms insided a heavy wardrobe. Her dreams were a jumble, and she awoke with a scream releasing from her dry throat.

"God," she mumbled, reaching for her journal while she dipped her pen in an ink pot.

_Dearest Diary,_

_I've had a terrifying nightmare, that seems to shake me to the core. From what I've remembered, I'm in the middle of a deep and wide lake. I cannot see the shores, and I find I can walk on the surface like that of glass. I walk a considerable amount all while the sky is dark, until I feel something grasp my leg._

_A pale, white arm drags me while I scream until my breath is gone. I take one look at the body dragging me deeper. I wake up with the morbid and dead face of my father staring at me with the most gleeful expression._

_Writing of it all at once brings tears to my eyes, and I can do nothing, since it's quite late in the night. I hope I can forget this quickly, but I hear someone padding about outside my door. I'll need to go and investigate this._

_Earnestly Worried,_

_-Seras_

Seras put down the leather-bound diary, lighting a candle and stepping out. She held it in both hands to keep them from shaking on their own. She whispered a hoarse call.

"Hello? Show yourself."

The shuffling stopped, and all was quiet for a few moments but for the creaking of a staircase or the settling of stone.

". . . You'd better put our yer candle, child," a Scotch accented voice grunted from behind her, making her drop the stand, immediately snuffing out the flame into the rug under her feet.

"Peace, evil spirits be drawn to sources of light, like yer flame." Seras turned to see the tall man from the coach, priest robes donned and a crucifix clutched in his gloved hands.

"My pardon, I didn't know sir," Seras said.

"Aye, be innocent and unknowin', child of God. My name is Father Alexander Anderson, and yours, girl?"

"Seras Victoria. If I may ask, what would a Father like yourself be doing being a servant?"

"That certainly is a question. I'm here on a mission from God, the Vatican has informed me that unholy and lewd acts have been carried out in this region for many a century. I be here to discover the heart of them, and stomp it out," Anderson exclaimed, a fire burning in his eyes from behind his round spectacles.

"-And the crucifix?" Seras asked.

"I am putting a blessing over this place before I begin investigatin'. I seem to be havin' more trouble feeling at ease here. Darkness and evil seem mortared into the walls themselves, and it's making me unrested," the priest said, tapping the dank stone of the wall.

Seras nodded, fearing that what he was saying was true. Oh, if only she'd never left England, and stayed where the sun could shine. Hearing these words made her shiver, and the whole castle seemed a lot colder and foreboding than before. Anderson seemed to notice this, and placed a hand on her shoulder. His strong fingers held her steady and quieted her tremors.

"I have one last question, Father. Why would you tell me this, if you are on a secret mission?"

The Judas priest seemed to contemplate, before answering with a smile.

"It seems that I be able to discern innocence, and I knew that you were a pure child, that wouldn't tell a soul. You will do this for me, won't you, Victoria?"

"Yes, Father," Seras answered, giving a friendly smile, and putting her hand on top of his.

"Alright, might I tell you something more, to forewarn you?" Anderson asked, his face turning slightly serious.

"Yes, but come to my room, where we may talk privately," Seras said, turning to the door and allowing the towering man to enter before locking the door back up tightly.

Once they were inside, Anderson took a chair that sat next to the vanity, and Seras sat at the edge of her bed, her legs tucked underneath her.

"Please, continue, Father."

"Very well, child. Now, I've been making notes about the group of us arriving since we were all on the train a hundred miles of track ago. And, it appears that each of them have a sort of training in weapons, is it true of thee?"

Seras froze a moment, remembering back to her grandfather taking her out hunting, and being part of the armed forces. She'd of course taken classes, and was well-trained in sharp-shooting. Though it had been a few years. She hesitantly told the priest this, and his face seemed to fall.

"Aye, so it is true, I began to grow suspicious when I saw the old woman slide something sharp under her skirts, and if I'm not mistaken the younger man with us carries darts under his cuffs. Don't be fooled by these beaten-down people. They are as lethal as a wolf wearing the skin of a sheep, be on yer guard."

"A-Alright, I will be, Father," Seras said shakily, absorbing the idea of the old man hiding a gun under his bowler had, it contradicted everything she'd grown up knowing. She herself had nothing of a weapon, but a handgun and one round. Nothing for heavy-damage and more for show than anything.

"Good, good, and call me Anderson, or Alex," the Judas Priest said hurriedly.

"Right, thank you kindly, Anderson," she noticed how late it'd gotten, "It must be bothersome having to talk me, so I should be turning in."

Anderson rose from his chair, approaching the obviously small girl, placing another gentle hand on her shoulder.

"We must stay as allies, if we're to get to the bottom of this matter, Seras," he said.

The last thing he did, was place a kiss on the girls' lips, chaste and gentle. It was warm, and Seras was surprised at how intimate it was. Not just a farewell, as like a kiss on the cheek in greeting a friend, but closer.

"Goodnight, I'll greet ye in the mourn, Victoria," Anderson said with a knowing smile while closing the door. It clicked shut, and she ran clumsily to bolt it shut.

Her face felt flushed and hot, her thoughts very flurried as she crawled under the covers. What did he mean by that action? A kiss? Did it mean something than what it meant in England? He was a priest! He wasn't meant to do things like this in his oath of chastity.

Hastily she covered her face and body under the thick wool blankets, automatically shifting into the fetal position. Her thoughts were brought to a halt by one fact.

_**That was her first kiss, by any person out of her family, even on the lips**_. The thought both warmed her, by the fact that it was only that. But, it also chilled her that she hadn't prepared for that, and that it was to a man who appeared much older and knowing than her. Of course, he was a wonderful man, who seemed to be doing nothing but the will of God, it was admirable.

However, she'd expected that sort of thing to be like a dream, slow and expected, predictable even. The light feeling in her head confirmed that she'd enjoyed it, but she swore to not continue any further with the man.

'_Keep it at arms-length, Seras,' _she thought, cradling into slumber's arm like a babe in a mother's, _'This is all under your control, always.'_

_

* * *

_

**Author:** I got it in on time! Huzzah!

**Anderson:** Such a heathenous farce! I'll cut the lot of you up 'till the dogs won't even touch your bodies!

**Author:** Shut up! You'll get your chance later.

**Walter:** I daresay I'd like to get my chance as well. *Glare*

**Author:** Yeah, we'll see.

A/N: Thanks to anyone that reads this or rates, everything helps.


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